A Time
by Jerena Xaturd
Summary: Uploaded for a peep
1. CH 1-4

Droning. Then more.

That was what it mostly felt like every single day.

Wake up, eat, contemplate on leaving the home, sometimes deciding against it. Then just sitting there on the couch staring at the plastic faces procured via just as artificial light. There was no concern on whether they were or not. Most channels hardly offered anything genuine.

Then eating again and finally sleep.

And repeat.

For any regular human being this would come about as a bit problematic. However, was she really human? What exactly could a person categorize this secluded creature. A woman of twenty eight spending her waning years cooped up in a more than adequate apartment? Perhaps a hermit. Maybe not even human at all.

She could really care less. She was an empty shell. A vessel. There was nothing more she could possibly do in a time she was sure she should not have existed. A curse even. Whatever. It was no matter. Occasionally a few people who considered her enough as more than an acquaintance would sometimes eject her from her home and have her partake in... Well. Let us put it lightly as asinine activities. Deep down she would enjoy them but really. All she wanted to do was remain indoors.

One day this was not the case.

She awoke. She ate something other than dry flakes. But then she stood at her bedroom door, hand centimetres away from the handle. Did she want to return within? Did she want to melt under the covers into black dreams? There was some hesitation before she eventually opened the door, closing it behind her.

And she was rustling through her wardrobe. She chose not to go for her usually unassuming attire, which consisted of a huge sweater with a big collar and in some dull colour and dark grey bottoms. Instead, she chose a blue T-shirt and regular jeans. She slipped on a pair of sneakers on her feet before stuffing random necessities within a purse her roommate purchased for her. How he knew she would actually appreciate it is beyond her but hey. He was her roommate for a reason.

He usually left early in the morning anyway so it was something like an occasion if the both of them were in the same room. And one such time was when he handed her the yellow satchel. Something about it reminding him of her. She could have vomited on the spot from the sincerity of the gesture.

She was soon out of the congested abode, marching down several stairs, opting not for the elevator and was in the in the French streets of Île-de-France in no time. Where to go was another debacle.

She could visit the little lady who provided her with the apartment, all the while her meeting up with a friend she could consider 'the best'. But really, the shenanigans that happen up in their domain, along with all the other occupants of the home, are really something she tried to avoid often. Very much often.

There were others she could visit but she would have to call them up. She was in no way that person who just shows up out of nowhere, despite that being half true. She dug into her pocket and got out her phone and, as she walked by several shops at the sidewalk, proceeded to consider her options.

Which were plentiful yet still so limited.

At some point she stopped walking. She felt a little nauseous as her head began to spin, causing her nearly to lurch forward, clutching her stomach from up chucking material that was not necessary to have splattered all over the ground. Then it stopped. She lifted her head to find her eyes had been shut from the unexpected sensations.

So she opened them.

Up to find a scene very unfamiliar to her. She was no longer in the streets of a French dominion. In fact she had no idea as to where she was.

All she could tell was she was currently in a harbour of sorts, with people walking about on their own business, fishermen either tying their boats at the docks or heading out to catch that day's haul. Some people were dressed in clothes she hardly recognized yet at the same time were so familiar to her. Perhaps someone else was feeling a sense of familiarity...

"Madame, you shouldn't be standing right in the path of others," a masculine voice spoke behind, causing her to whip around to see a man dressed just like everyone else in the area.

The outfit really would have been screaming at anyone from her accustomed era. He seemed to have been taken aback by her own, as did the other passersby. Receiving so much attention was rather unnerving enough as it it was, so she quickly muttered an apology, to which the man simply chuckled.

"It is quite alright, madame,"

"I am not called madame," she curtly replied.

"Well that is a surprise, someone of your stature not taken by another is quite appalling!" his brows were raised at this point.

Of her stature? 'Taken'? What the hell was this ninny going on about? Either way, it bothered her immensely.

"I hardly believe that I look like some trophy for some sleaze to claim as his own," her face was blank.

But his took on a smile that would have made her skin crawl had she not the accustomed demeanor. She simply walked past him, trying to find anyone else who would at least help her out of the predicament she was in now. All the while, surprisingly, unaware of the pair of eyes lingering after her.

CH 2

Had she not the composure of one of the stone gargoyles she had seen on a nearby building she would have been screaming at this point. She had entered a shoppe of sorts to find a more agreeable individual to chat with. She was a timid lady who looked strikingly familiar yet she chose not to mention it.

The lady told her she was in a place called Remington which she could only pinpoint as being in the Americas. Now so many questions were flooding her head. How in the blue hell did she end up in such a place? And in such a time frame no less? The echoes of the calls from her bed were practically resounding at this point.

"Miss, it seems you are not from around here," the lady perked up, pulling her out of her little spiel.  
"Do you perhaps go by a name?"

"You tell me, butters," she blew a strand of white hair out of her face, leaving the poor woman confused.

She couldn't blame her really. Anyone in this time seeing a young woman in a shirt that revealed a little bit of cleavage, tight fitting pants and shoes like _those_ would have given several ideas. Even her hair was weird enough; black with two white locks framing her face.

"I do beg your pardon?"

"I go by... Tacitus," she sighed, deciding to go with that. Saying her name was just T would have put her off more than she already was.

Besides, that was her 'real' name after all.

Tacitus Thadeus.

"Would that not be a Sir's title, miss?" the lady pried.

"Should it matter?" And this statement made her chuckle, surprisingly.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," she had a hand to her mouth, as if to halt such an unladylike gesture.

Boy, T really was in the possible 50's.

"Would you perhaps like me to offer you clothes more befitting? I could not help but notice that everyone here is captured by your wear," she waved at her entire physique.

"Usually I could care less about what others think," T shrugged. "But I guess I could entertain this train of thought,"

The woman clapped her hands together in warm glee before gliding off to find something suitable. Which took a while. T did not want to feel congested so the first dress with an incredibly suffocating collar was not going to work. The next dress's sleeves were entirely too long. Plus, the other dress' skirts were too damn long. And let us not get started on those wide dress skeletons as T liked to call them. Neither those corsets; they fit her yes but she did not enjoy their purpose.

Who the hell thought dresses were a good idea anyway? Oh yeah, sexist and perverted white males.

She eventually settled for a plain brown dress. A very, _very_ familiar white and brown dress. This dress had an unfortunate corset with it but it fit comfortably on her visage. Its center was white along with the string tied in a bow right at where most of her chest was visible. The frills of the dress, as well as the cuffs ending above her wrist, were white as well.

"Stunning, absolutely stunning, Miss," the shopkeeper smiled as T took in her reflection within the mirror, albeit it being a tad bit dirty.

The lady knew better and she knew it. A prostitute of their times could own this type of dress yet the woman was clearly going along with whatever T wanted, so long as she chose something to wear. Once the woman was back behind the makeshift counter T quickly picked up her belongings and dashed off without a word. She did not have anything to pay anyone here with after all.

As she ran she overheard strange tidbits of information along her road to anywhere. Apparently a Mage or some thing lived within a wood far from here, possessing strange powers that, as far as she could process, were both miraculous as well as horrid.

Just like her, to some extent. Perhaps this person held her answers as to why she was in this timeframe? Maybe even the very reason.

She felt bad for leaving that poor woman hanging but what else could T do. She was on a mission for the future. However at this point she was meandering about, not really in a rush to meet this Mage, mostly because she still had a feeling of uneasiness. She had finally sensed that she was being watched.

CH 3

She decided to go to a local inn for the time being. Luckily, it seemed these people were hospitable, and they allowed for tenants to pay once their stay was over. Again, T did not have the required currency to pay for a thing here, so she was planning yet again to run off if necessary. Hopefully when she went out she did not need to return again and was back in her apartment.

She did not particularly feel any way when it came to her present actions. Yes, it was not morally correct to run off from paying for something but she did not plan to stay. She knew she was not about to stick around to be ushered into this village's way of life. She was going to return to the present.

She was soon back out in the public, asking around for the so called 'Mage'. But each time she tried to weasel something out of someone, they would dance around her questions before quickly scurrying off. She was contemplating on eavesdropping once more but she wanted solid information, not gossip.

Perhaps she could ask the children? They were always willing to speak about interesting topics.

However, they mostly spoke rumors it seemed. One prim girl said that he was a terrifying monster, responsible for any misery that befell the town. One boy with way too many dirt spots on his overalls said he was incredible, saying that he was responsible for the odd landscape outside of the town, or so his friends told him.

Just more fanciful tales and not enough intel. It was beginning to get tiresome.

T soon found herself sitting near a river than ran a ways between the town and the forest. She was tempted to wade through the water but opted to keep her feet submerged.

This was not working out well. She was also sure that there was no other civilization she could go to to inquire about the mage, and if there was, it was most likely miles away. She could consider making such a trip but she really wanted to leave.

And there was another issue. What if this mage was just a hoax? What if it was all a ploy to create a boost in tourism for the town? It was quite the basic kind of livelihood, and bringing in goods must have cost them fortunes. Still, it was a shitty move. Especially if there was someone who desperately needed some kind of real help-

 _Enter the woods_

Her head snapped up.

There was no one around. Was she finally slipping away into an edy of despair?

It came again, and she was on her feet again. She quickly assessed the area to confirm again that yes, not a soul was there. Or maybe they could see her.

The lulling ricochet did not return, and T was about to head back to the inn.

She exhaled heavily before making for the shrubbery across the river, and into the forest.

The woods were quite thick, the only clear thing about it being the man-made path. The rest of the environment were dead leaves, moss and fallen trees. T had forgone shoes; a common mistake. But not for her. How she could forget something as programmed as slipping on a pair of shoes was beyond her. But, she was more civil than having to further her theft with footwear.

She walked for some time, passing the occasional clearing. Just how deep were these woods? One could easily pin it more to a forest than anything. She would come across a few creatures of varying size, all of the world, or so the internet would depict. But then she came across some things that did not appear so earthly. In fact some almost appeared to be hybrids.

Really, they were too strange to give a proper description; at best some had purple flesh or had too many eyes. Some even looked like two animals put into horrid combinations, such as a deer and a badger, or a frog and a bird.

At the same time this did not bother the woman. It certainly did enough for the villagers to never dare to near the place however. Curiosity was what encouraged her to go on.

A concrete structure soon came into view, just beyond a few misplaced slabs of the same kind of material jutting from the ground. She only acknowledged they were there as she continued to approach the building. It was decorated in ornate cloths with specific patterns: all with at least one of the same kind of symbol. A strange smiley with spokes jutting from it. For some reason, she was becoming wary.

She was soon standing before the wooden door of the place. Smoke was emitting from a thin chimney like pipe at one side, so she knew it was definitely being inhabited. She had to collect herself first. Why, she was still unsure. There was nothing wrong. Really. However, the intimidating thought of a mage that was feared by an entire village possibly residing within the walls of this grey building... Let's just say it's not pleasant. T was not a person who enjoyed getting involved in others' problems or conflicts.

Really, whatever happens will happen. She did not even bother to knock as she opened the door, but with caution. What waited within almost had her stricken with awe. All around were what appeared to be glass cubes encasing some different object: plants, tree bark, animalistic teeth or horns. The floor was a dark, bamboo wood that appeared to be varnished to the point it was almost black and new, despite one or two planks jutting out.

Speaking of the floor, it was covered here and there with thin, intricate carpets. The same went for the cloths on some of the walls. Again, some had that smile symbol, but she opted to be oblivious, take in more of the interior. There were rocks and crystals on a table near a window with some parchment papers stacked close to them. In fact the floor was littered with papers, all with the same black scrawl.

She then stopped.

Her hand was resting on her thigh in no time once she saw something move. She turned slowly and glanced at another table. She nearly cursed.

On the table was a quill in an inkwell and more papers, all neatly placed beside another glass cube containing a beating heart. Yes, she was not going senile yet. It was a literal, encased human heart. She approached the quivering thing, fascination bound to make anyone else ill. Well. Maybe not anyone.

"Breaking and entering is a felony," a gravelly, disembodied voice was heard close by.

T did not dare to turn around. It would satisfy the smug undertone of that statement, and she was sure of it.

"Maybe you have not been taught the proper etiquette, Miss Stranger,"

She could feel the breath on her ear, but she knew there was no one behind her. Suddenly, everything felt cold, the air was unbearably stifling, and the skin was beginning to crawl. She tried raising her hand. It was fruitless. She was on the unforgiving flooring in no time. She could remember the silhouette.

Looming.

 _Leering_.

CH 4

The blackness was not something that she particularly enjoyed. For one, it was not of her doing. Any form of darkness she was very open towards, but this one did not sit well with her in the slightest. She then decided it was time to open her eyes, and nearly felt bilious.

It appeared she was hanging upside down, the black and green smiley carpet staring mockingly up at her. How could she be so high up? She tried to turn her head but it was difficult. She also felt restricted from her limbs. Well that was to be expected for trespassing. However, her hands and feet did not feel shackled in the usual sense.

They were beside her, in fact.

An arm and a leg on either side of her head. Her torso? Possibly nearby. The whole charade was sickening. She was somehow suspended above the floor of this lunatic's home. And parted from all important parts of her body. It was so hard to keep her cool in a situation she unfortunately caused upon herself. But to still be alive while being disembodied and stuck to a ceiling? Just was not on her list of expected casualties.

"I was beginning to believe that you had really died," the voice was back.

She sneered subtlety as her eyes scanned the room, in attempts to locate this wise guy. It appeared to be for storage; several parchment scrolls and barrels stacked against walls. There were also crates and more of those transparent cubes atop them. And then a door. And a figure darkening the entryway.

He was dressed in black. Practical, but predictable. His high collar cloak had again, the smiley symbol, but also yellow spots accenting it. The sleeves of his shirt ended to the dorsal of his dark hands. At least on the one more visible, the grip on the wooden, elaborate staff lax. His belt had holders keeping vials and mini containers in place.

His face was stoic and uninterested, but not unamused. His piercings glinted in what light was provided from the two windows of the furthest wall.

"Perhaps from the initial shock of being found so quickly," he inspected the hand on the staff. "Perhaps from the realisation of your situation? I am not so sure, though it would be a humorous tale to recall,"

She scowled. How could he be so frivolous in such a macabre situation? His taste in fun, maybe. As a matter of fact, it just so happened to be in her interests as well.

"Maybe it would?" T made a half attempt at a shrug. "But I was rather tired, I suppose I needed the sleep. Though, you seem to need it more,"

His eyes nearly squinted, and she chuckled inwardly.

"You don't seem perturbed in the slightest,"

"I've experienced worse,"

"Is that so,"

"I wouldn't have wasted breath if I did not," he tittered at this before pacing below her.

"You are a smart one,"

"Then you're definitely the smartest,"

He halted in his step. Did the little chat grow boring for him? No. This was blatant entertainment for this Mage. The hand hidden was now on his hip, his gaze to the floor.

"I must say, Miss Stranger," he started. "This is a rather interesting development,"

"What do you want from me?" she demanded simply, growing tired of this little game.

"Whatever implied it?"

"I am still alive,"

His smile was gone, eyebrows raised but sullen eyes still calculating. He was beneath her now, looking up at her with that gaze. She could only look back with her empty pools. This little stare down went on for a while before there was a knock at the door. It made him freeze up. T did not think it were possible for him. He seemed like a collected individual. What could possibly make him stop.

He turned and left her alone, and all she was left with was silence. She could not hear what was happening in whatever room that knock came from. Maybe he did not have many guests. At least, those who knock. After some time, a shadow passed one of the windows, slowly gliding towards the next.

And then it was gone. It made her incredibly uneasy. And that was no good sign. The mage returned soon after, and even he appeared shaken. He was frowning as his eyes were closed, creases on his forehead beginning to form.

"Who was that," she spoke up, and he sent a dirty look her way.

"Silence,"

She did, but only for the moment. He appeared to fish around the innards of his cloak for a bit, his hand seeking purchase on some object. Once he found it, he brought it out and held it casually before her, and she knew exactly what it was.

Her heart.

Beating in his filthy hand.

"To think that you remain so calm even with a vital organ within possessions not of your own," he said, lifting the thing a little higher to eye level. "Remarkable,"

"This is disgusting," she admitted.

"I know," he smiled.

He then put it out of sight, and was back to pacing around the carpet. It did not appear he had completely finalised what he planned to do with her. She just hoped he would hurry on with it already. It was becoming irritating as each grating minute passed with nothing being said, nothing being concluded. T really was beginning to become sicker being she was stuck up where she was. She wondered... if it was possible? Even if she was not connected to her torso...

A sharp tap against the wooden floor brought her from her mischievous and somewhat unsanitary thoughts.

"I believe I have come to a final decision," the man addressed.

"And what would that be?" she could only roll her eyes before gasping.

He was taking her down? The room did suddenly feel stifling as her head flipped in the air from the ceiling and into his hand, almost suffocating, the blue hue that took over environment. His fingers were cold, hostile. Not exactly disgusted with having to be resting on her being, however she did not want to be anywhere near him. His eyes were just as frigid. Determined. _Clouded_. This mage was not easy to read at all and perhaps he trained himself so that no one ever could.

.

.

"You will make up for your invasion of my dwelling by working for it," he said clearly. "Your very existence will be a tool if I am in need. Be prepared,"

He rested her head on a stool before exiting the room, the door giving off a sound click. She could only stare at the closed barrier before her now, and not long after she found herself sighing.

"His eye-bags are definitely not pleasant either,"


	2. CH 5-7

CH 5

Her head hurt.

Badly.

And if the cold hard surface her head was against was not enough of a clue on what was going on then nothing else would be. She eventually decided to take a look around now, sure that too much time had passed for her liking. She had at least been right about something; her torso was also on the roof. Oh, was that a sight not to behold, your body cut from you and plastered onto a wooden ceiling. She wondered if she could move them, and quite surprisingly they did, but they did not fall. She wondered if the fall _her head_ made from the short stool next to her was adding to the daze of sleep. She could hear chuckling from outside the room, and instantly her brows were frowning. The mage must have seen her in the pitiable state she was in earlier on, and must have come to check on her once more. Well, she was awake now at least, so it was best to get the hellscape of a day he had in store for her over with.

"The floor has taken your interest, has it?" the slimy tone he carried really was something she was growing to hate as his feet came into view.

Her head was off of the ground in an instant, his fingertips deftly moving aside stray hairs from her face. He even held her head out seemingly to get a better look at her. What again for she did not know. He was infuriating now. T even chose not to say anything now out of spite, and to her relief it cut his fun short. An eyebrow of his twitched once before he made the room stifling again and suddenly she was toppling on the floor once more, though she was somehow able to... brace herself?

What?

"Take the garb I have acquired for you," he muttered as he made haste to leave like last time, but left the door open. "You have work you know,"

T rubbed her elbow once she sat up, looking beside her to see a pile of black cloth. Again, predictable colours. She stood up and lifted whatever it was to look at it. Surprisingly it was only a cloak. She thought it was going to be much worse, though all the same, she was glad it was just that.

One would wonder why she would not have already tried to book it by now considering she was put back together. Her arms and legs were, yes, now back in their normal positions, and her head was on her person once more. Though she was practically a headless chicken prior it did not mean she was about to act like one. Firstly, he was much too casual about the situation. He was certainly sure of himself that she could not get away. Why would she want to make more of a fool of herself by trying to escape already? And secondly, her apathetic levels were reaching an increasing high, so her position was hardly affecting her. Was it enough to say she was cool in such a dire time, or just absurd?

Also, her body was feeling compelled to obey him. Perhaps he put something on her? It was the only obvious option by now.

She could only shake her head now that she was granted the option again, and just put on the cloak. It was musty and uncomfortable. The design on the lower part at the front was beginning to fade was what she noted before moving out of the room. She could tell that it was the next day, roughly close to midday. The stench of herbs were blatant in the air as she exited the hallway she was in, and she was back out into the open space where it seemed to be this man's work area. The texture of parchment and carpets could be felt beneath her feet, showing that he did not even bother to clean up.

He was already at one of the the tables, hastily moving a pen across one of the unrolled sheets of increasingly long papers. His frustration clung to the air, and because of who she was, she could feel it. She patted at the cloak which covered the dress she wore, all the way down around her bare ankles. What could he be writing? Was she the cause of his frustration? Had they met normally the other day, would he still be like this? She did not know.

"I know you are not going to simply stand there and stare for the entire day, right?" his piercing gaze cut her once she made eye contact.

Just the side of his face was visible as he watched her from across the room. His legs were too long on his stature, and his position on the somewhat short stool he was one did not look comfortable with him huddled over the table. He almost appeared hunchback the way he was.

"Clean this room," he waved a hand as he went back to his writing, signalling for her to get started.

T held herself back from groaning before she went to do as he asked. Was this really what she was reduced to? Granted she was technically a servant. A servant for a being that did not treat it's subjects well. A being that resided in her no less. It was why she looked the way she did after all, or why she even existed; it helped to blend amongst humans and not to raise suspicions. However, she had gained a semblance of independence and had strayed from her initial purpose. Hence why she shuffled around at home most of the time, if not all of it.

But at least she kept the place relatively tidy enough, not like what this room was like. Each time she moved papers out of the way she just discovered more to clean, such as ink stains and whatever the substance was that was smeared into more that one of the carpets. Just what did this person do in his time here?

She could hardly complain; perhaps these were what went along the lines of having to atone for doing wrong to him. She did breach his surroundings after all, so until she was done here, only then would she be free. And oh, how she longed for that. Freedom was something someone like her needed. What he was doing was against everything the atoms of her creation went against. Though, she also wondered if she could even ask for help after all this. It almost made her pout to add to her frustrations.

"Supplies can be found further down the hall," she spoke up after she finally got the floor cleared up.

She wiped her hands together to rid anything foreign that might have clung from her moving things out of the way, and she groaned before moving along. It really was a dark hallway; it was the daytime though for the mage it seemed that was light enough. She turned a few corners before finding a wooden door ajar. Inside was a broom, so she guessed this was his storeroom. Upon her stepping in a candle was lit aflame. Possibly enchanted? What did she know, she was no magic practitioner.

Her eyes glanced around for one swift moment before landing on something.

A head of a man.

Encased in a glass cube.

CH 6

Her eyes remained fixed upon the unmoving body part, unsure if it even had eyes of its own to look back at her with. After all, it was wearing a pair of sunglasses too dark to see what they were hiding. It was hard to tell what hair colour the head owned, seeing as the orange light the candle flickered made it appear orange. A sort of flat hat donned the head from what she can tell, but it also seemed heavily personalised. She could hardly tell what it was supposed to resemble.

Normally seeing such a thing would make anyone be struck with deep shock and confusion. T however, as a reminder, was not normal. She was hardly human after all. But she was beginning to lay down several questions like one. Such as why was there a head in glass casing? And why was it in this room? A storeroom no less, perfectly set in the middle of the room, upon a red cushion. Was it aesthetic? A trophee?

Furnishing?

"So do you plan on staring at me all day?" a voice sounded soon after.

It made her eyes twitch wide for a split second. It came from the head, obviously. It even had a brow raised.

"That's the second time I've heard that line," she sighed, recalling the mage's earlier comment.

"I'm not surprised," the head cocked to one side, as if it were not detached from it's body at all.

"So you are alive?"

"This isn't a run-off-the-mill magic show you're seeing, woman," the tone was now almost condescending.

"I should know, for I've experienced it myself," she said sharply, making the head flinch.

"What now then?" it smiled nervously. "What plans do you have?"

"I came for this," she held up the broom nonchalantly, and the head rose it's eyebrow again.

"The archmage is hiring maid service now?" it spoke its thoughts. "Usually he would just make one of us do it. Unless... you aren't doing this willingly, ain't ya?"

There it was. It seemed this head knew a _lot_ more than it was willing to let on, but unconsciously did anyway. It knew the mage was what she could come up with, perhaps well. Was it human though, because it did not seem very frightened by it's current situation. In fact it seemed tired and wanted to be free like she did. Her eyes were lingering on the display again, and the head took note of course.

"Forget about it," she looked up. "You touch this and you'll get us both into some serious trouble, and I'm sure you don't want that, right?"

"How did you know, eh?" T feigned with a barely noticeable hint of mock ignorance.

"It appears you lot are getting along famously," that familiar voice was close yet again, and T's grip on the broom tightened instinctively once she turned her view back to the mage.

"I wouldn't say that," the head said from inside the glass.

"Why do I get the nagging suspicion that you have spoken too much?" the man's eyes were darker, and the head flinched especially this time.

"I-I can pr-romise I didn't, archmage," it attempted to get itself off the hook, but it proved pointless.

"Hmph," the mage shook his head before turning around. "Well, I think you should help the woman with the daily duties,"

"Damn it!" the other cried in defeat. "But... I think there might be a little problem, yeah? Such as... my head still in here?"

"Don't fret now," the mage shrugged before walking away. "He should be here soon,"

CH 7

 _He?_

Who was that man referring to?

T tried to ask him but he was already leaving the room, instructing her to take the head and follow. Being ordered around so much like this from a stranger was starting to lose its humour ridiculously fast. She removed the casing and brought the head into one hand and walked out, it spouting something about being careful or the other. Now she just stood in the still messy work area for the mage, who was back at his table, resuming whatever he was writing. Her mind began to wander then.

Just who was supposed to be coming? Was it another mage? Were they even human? She was beginning to question why she had so many questions by now. It was frustrating not having clear answers on anything. All she wanted was to be at home, letting the day waste away rather than be where she was. It was truly a bad choice to have left her room that morning...

 **THUD.**

A dull but loud noise sounded from outside, and the head in her hand made groan of annoyance. What were these strange occurances? Then she saw a person's silhouette from one of the windows. Well, two of them after taking a proper look.

"Good grief," one of them seemingly scratched at its head. "Without it you just knock into just about anything,"

"Could ya make my body go in the direction it's supposed to, moron?!" the head was beginning to fidget.

Another head poked its way into the open doorway of the building, an aviator hat atop it. The man seemed surprised to hear the voice from within.

"Ah, you're here already," the man moved fully into view, and with him he tugged a headless body cautiously padding at the walls. "Sorry about that, but it isn't easy moving this stupid thing around,"

"Stupid?" the head of the headless man teeth were grinding now.

"Well, you are reduced to this after all," the other shrugged.

Then his eyes finally landed on T. Strange he did not notice a person literally holding the head he was speaking to. Though his cap perfectly shadowed his eyes, it was obvious he was eyeing her from head to toe, and he eventually stopped at the insignia emblazoned on the black cloak she was wearing. He too appeared just as perplexed at her presence as the head did.

"Er, archmage-?" he spoke up but was cut off instantly.

"No questions, just reattach Shachi," he lifted the fountain pen before going back to work.

The man looked back at T helplessly before simply shrugging his shoulders in defeat before taking the head of the presumed 'Shachi', successfully reattaching it to the body. In the proper light she could tell that he indeed had ginger hair, and he was already stretching his body and making sure his head was in its proper place, as if confirming that it would not fall off if the sudden, stifling blue air had anything to say on the matter. Afterwards he then threw his hands in the air as though he just overcame a trial of sorts.

"Hallelujah!" he cheered. "I'm back in one piece!"

"You still have work," and with that, he physically seemed to deflate.

"You're almost there," the other gave a friendly pat right before Shachi shrugged it away.

"At least I'm not in that pedestal anymore..." he grumbled lowly before moving over to T and snatching the broom from her, quickly getting to the chore.

"That does not mean you are let off, you know," the apparent 'archmage' stood up and walked by her as he went outside the building, seeming to be fetching the other man.

T ran a hand over her face before stalking back to the storeroom in search of other cleaning apparatuses, and she of course did. It took the rest of the day just for the two, herself and the man, to finish cleaning the one room. It did not help having another hand as they did not know how the other operated, and they bumped into the other frequently. She was slowly beginning to grow annoyed of this Shachi.

.

Several flames twitched back and forth to light the darkened room. Night had approached without one ever being able to notice. Shachi was on the floor snoring while the mage had returned to his writing. T was sitting cross-legged on the floor against a wall far from them, trying to piece together her thoughts. As expected, it proved a waste of time. It never worked, no matter how many times she tried. It was always better for her just not to think on some things, anything in there could be finalised that way for her.

"Return to the room you left this morning," the mage was standing in front of her. He had moved so quietly that she could never have known he moved.

"No food?"

"Do not think we are at the same level here," he moved his head to one side as he looked down at her.

"Do you expect me to work without some way of keeping me alive?"

"Are you truly alive?"

This comment threw her off.

"You do not seem terribly upset at the threat of no sustenance," he crossed his arms, resting his chin on a raised finger. "Which makes me wonder about you,"

He had her with that. Just what claims did he have on her exactly. Perhaps he really _did_ know about her and what had happened to her. After all, even though he hardly spoke, it was his voice she heard that beckoned her to step foot in the forest at all. Or at least, she thought it was. She was beginning to actually hope it was, too.

"If you search enough, you can find the kitchen," he stated. "But do not bother tampering with anything. I would know,"

She wondered if he would have tortured her by not giving anymore information had she given him a more predictable reaction. Like begging. Granted she wondered if she was even peculiar at all to him. Most people in her time called her as such with any strange situation she found herself in. She could possibly be some new form of entertainment. After all, she was still 'alive'. T decided to let the matter rest for now before standing. She walked over the sleeping man on the floor to begin locating said kitchen.

She chose to start with going down the hallway which led to the storeroom but her foot caught in one of the loose floorboards, and with that she came crashing to the ground. A very particular emphasis on the word _crashing_.

Ooze seeped freely from beneath her head where it had connected flat on the floor, and the mage stood wide-eyed from behind her still body.


End file.
